


Country Christmas

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John, Christmas, Fireplaces, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Sherlock, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out in the country for a case, Sherlock and John aren't going to get home tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Country Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Redcrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redcrow/gifts).



John leaned against Sherlock's shoulder, arms folded and nodding off. The train station was cold, but the case was solved and Baker Street awaited them. Sherlock's fingers danced over his mobile. John couldn't be arsed to care, looking forward to his warm bed.

Suddenly Sherlock was on his feet, tugging John up. Yawning, he let himself be pulled. "What is it?"

"The train is delayed until morning. We've got a room nearby." Sherlock took his hand and led him out of the empty station.

John couldn't help but smile, still getting used to the comfortable sensation of the gloved hand in his. The cold shocked him awake as the door opened, snow chasing their heels.

"You never dress warm enough," muttered Sherlock, pulling his scarf free and wrapping it around John's neck. It smelled like the detective and John couldn't help but smile against it.

It was a short walk, stars twinkling overhead in a way they never could in London. Sherlock let go of his hand to go to the counter, returning after a moment with a key. John followed him up the stairs and into a small room that had little more than a crackling fireplace and a large bed.

Sherlock grabbed the front of the scarf and pulled John into a kiss, licking the lingering cold from his lips. John moaned, the rest of his body heat rushing decidedly south.

John grinned as Sherlock pulled away. They quickly shed coats and shirts and jumpers and trousers, crawling underneath the covers, reveling in the warmth of skin on skin. Sherlock rolled John onto his back, frotting slowly against him as he kissed him deeply.

"Did you bring the lube?" asked John when they came up for air.

Sherlock shook his head, damp curls bouncing. John started to speak again, but then Sherlock was diving deep under the covers, spreading John's legs, tongue lapping at his entrance.

"Oh God," moaned John, reaching under the blankets to rest a hand in Sherlock's hair. A gasp escaped John's lips as Sherlock pressed inside, fucking him with his tongue, making John swear and rock against him. A finger pressed in as he withdrew his tongue. 

Sherlock nibbled his thigh as he fingered him. John threw the blankets back, watching his lover’s eyes in the firelight. With a moan, John shifted and rolled over, getting on hands on knees. “Come on and fuck me.”

Growling, Sherlock moved up behind him, holding his hips as he worked his way inside. It burned but felt so good, John was quite willing to put up with a day of soreness or two. Sherlock draped himself over John’s broad back once he was seated and pinning John’s hands with his own.

“Just so,” moaned John, trying to rock back against him, sweat slipping down his spine.

By now, Sherlock knew exactly what he liked, exactly how to bring him off. One elegant hand let go of his and wrapped around his cock. Only a few short strokes and John was coming, trying to muffle his moans against the pillow, unsure of the thickness of the walls in a place like this.

It only took a few more thrusts for Sherlock to follow him over, panting heavily in his ear. After a few moments he lay John on his side and curled tightly around him, long legs entangling John’s. Smiling, John kissed his hand. “You know it’s almost Christmas, yeah?”

“Tedious,” muttered Sherlock, burying his head against the crook of John’s neck.

Reaching back, John carded his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. “It’s still important.”

“Only important to me insofar as it is important to you.” muttered Sherlock.

John’s hands stilled. “You mean that?”

“Obviously.” Sherlock shifted to grab the blankets and pull them back over themselves.

“Go brush your teeth,” said John, shifting in his arms.

Sherlock raised his head. “Why?”

“Well for one you just rimmed me. And I want to kiss you.”

Grumbling, Sherlock rolled out of bed and padded to the small bathroom. John got up after him and grabbed a rag to wipe himself up with. It all ended with Sherlock crowding John against the wall and taking deep minty kisses until John laughed and pushed him away.

“Come on, I do need some sleep tonight.”

“You can sleep on the train.” But, Sherlock relented and let him lead the way back to bed. John settled under the covers, still naked and avoiding the wet spot. Sherlock curled up against him, head on his shoulder and running his fingers through the light hair on his chest. Smiling, John found sleep , knowing he was safe and with the man he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
